


Those who rush stumble and fall

by Raggedy_man



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Bodyguard, David - Freeform, F/M, Italy, Julia - Freeform, Julia Montague Lives, PTSD, Recovery, Shakespeare, david and julia, romeo and juliet - Freeform, the bodyguard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raggedy_man/pseuds/Raggedy_man
Summary: How someone lost found herself in an echo of the past.OrHow David finds his way back to Julia and the universe finds its balance.





	1. Stars

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Julia survives and heals from her injuries in Italy.   
> This is my first fic in this fandom so if you enjoy it, please let me know in the comments and I will continue with longer chapters<3

Julia was trained in arguing. She was the only child of excessively affluent lawyers who argued not only in the courts but with each other too, spitting venom whilst a young Julia listened and learned from the staircase of their large London townhouse. Then, like most privileged young women, eager to please their absent and often times neglectful parents, she followed in their footsteps and became a criminal barrister, applying her long-held knowledge of debate to criminals and courts of her own.

Reflecting on it now, she supposed her greatest achievement should be that of being the former Home Secretary, however, the small battle she’d fought today was so much more meaningful to her than all of the power she had ever held as a politician.

It started as a letter, full of raw emotion and painful uncertainty. It had taken her weeks to write and, even when she signed the bottom with _Lavender_ , she wasn’t sure that this was how she wanted to approach him.

Frustrated at herself, she requested a postcard, one that, no doubt, would have a cheesy overly saturated image of Verona with some cliche greeting printed in Times New Roman. She didn’t want to overcomplicate things. She didn’t want to disturb the little peace he had found in the wake of her tragic ‘death’. So, after a long conflict with herself, she gripped her overpriced fountain pen and swiped the address of her Shakespearian hideaway onto the white card, along with her phone number and initials.

It was to be hand delivered by a member of her new protection team and David if he so chose, was to be escorted to Italy under a false name and transported to her secluded villa as covertly as possible. She didn’t expect him to respond well to the bombshell that was her current state but, then again, she didn’t expect a text message from him at 2:37 am in the middle of July either.

_I’ll see you soon. DB x_

Her eyes brimmed with liquid fear that threatened to break down her defences each time she read over the brief yet heavy words that now illuminated her gaunt face. Shallow breaths rattled around her aching chest, intensifying a warmth that had gradually started to build in her stomach. She felt it rise through her until it peaked at the base of her throat, causing her to dash for the en-suite and slump over the toilet bowl like an over-indulged teenager. For the first time in forever, Julia Elizabeth Montague was unprepared.

As she sat, on the frigid tile of the bathroom, her mind whirred with images of a bloody David, mangled by the journey that would lead him to the faded red of her bricked driveway. The thoughts attacked her from every possible angle, bombarding her mind with fears she’d already felt in the solitude of the night but that still disturbed her in a way she never thought possible. The psychological scars she now carried ran just as deep as the physical ones that adorned her alabaster skin, both a permanent reminder of the events that would haunt her dreams for years to come.

They didn’t only invade the black of her bedroom. They were everywhere: in the flashes of nothing when she blinked, in the gaps of silence between songs on the radio, in the reflection of the crystal water that rested below the windows of her isolated palace, one in which she was trapped, chained to a throne of lies and wearing a crown of thoughts so heavy she could feel her mind shattering under its weight.

Carefully, she rose from her crouched position and swayed timidly through the white doors that led to the balcony, wrapping her cardigan around her small frame tightly as to keep out the pre-sunrise chill that had already swept over the valley. She turned her head toward the sky, frowning at the same stars that overlooked the person she most longed for.

Little did she know that under that blanket of tiny exploding gases, David was crying.


	2. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Julia finally meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second instalment of this story. I'm not sure how long it will be but the comments on the last chapter have encouraged me to continue and so I shall. As always, please leave your thoughts in the comments <3

The little jolt of the aircraft, as rubber tires touched tarmac, shook David from his daydream. It wasn’t until now that he had realised the full weight of his decision to up and leave for Italy: no explanation for Vicky or the kids, no luggage par the clothes on his back and no proper communication with the woman claiming to be Julia Montague, the same woman he’d failed to protect.

Therapy had been the one condition to his reinstatement as a PPO, with the events of last Autumn and his overwhelming sense of guilt being the main topic of discussion. It had, from the very first session, felt like a pointless exercise that was only designed to infuriate him. One step forward and three steps back. However, a few months in, he was feeling better, not cured but better: only having the nightmares occasionally and beginning to accept that Julia’s death could not have been prevented by him alone. It also made him realise just how attached to the Home Secretary he had become. It seemed that before he was blinded by duty, thoughts always on how to exit situations rather than how to stay safe within them. Now though, she held a piece of his heart, a piece that he’d assumed would stay buried in that scant Cheltenham graveyard. Up until yesterday morning anyway.

David started the day feeling uneasy. He’d argued with Vicky the night before about being allowed to take the kids up to Scotland for his mother’s birthday. She’d said no and they’d shouted at each other before he stormed out of her house and back to his flat, desperately needing a beer or two.

So when he’d answered the door to an olive-skinned young man with a clean-shaven face and freshly laundered suit, it would be fair to say that he was a little surprised.

He wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation and so allowed the man inside with little explanation, not inspecting the foreign postcard properly until he was stood in the doorway of his kitchen, clinging to it in an attempt to ground himself. At that moment it felt as if all of the air had been knocked out of him, his pulse hammering under his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention like soldiers on Remembrance Day. The idea that this must be some cruel joke flashed across his mind briefly but the signature was too perfect, the method of contacting him too clean for this not to have been her. The next thing he knew he was sitting in the back of a Jaguar, eyes raw with emotion, driving up an Italian backstreet.

[...]

“Ma’am?” A voice called from the hallway, prompting her to rise from her seated position.

“Yes, Sergent Ricci?” She replied with a false cover of confidence.

“Mr Budd has arrived and is waiting in the foyer. Would you like me to show him in?”

The answer to his question had formed in her mind before he’d even asked it and yet, she felt it trapped in her throat, a sudden wave of reality blocking its exit from her mouth.

“Ms Montague?”

“Show him in.” She ordered coldly, letting out a deep breath and attempting to swallow the growing lump in her throat.

The next few seconds seemed resistant to pass, forcing her to feel everything she’d built up over the last nine months until they stopped passing altogether, David’s rugged and slightly scarred face staring at her blankly.

She could tell he had changed. He looked healthier, like he was living rather than just surviving, a new shade of pink painting his skin radiant. His hair had started to grey in places too and a few more smile lines had appeared around his eyes, early ageing induced by her no doubt. His arms were a little more pronounced than they were before, a sign that he had been looking after his body as well as his mind, and his eyes, regarding her with such pain, were still just as blue.

Julia, on the other hand, looked completely lost in herself. When he looked at her, clearly weighing less than she used too and her hair falling just past her shoulders, he almost didn’t recognise her. She seemed like a ghost of herself.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” The Italian said, drawing the attention of the room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

Neither of them said anything for a while. They just looked at one another, making sure that this was a dream they wouldn’t wake up from.

After a long silence, David spoke softly into the charged air. “Ma’am.”

“My name is Julia.” Another silence commenced. “Take a seat. I’ll get you a drink. Tea? Coffee? A beer?”

“Tea please ma’am.” He replied, plopping onto a sofa that probably cost more than this month’s wages.

He took the blue mug that she offered him and watched as she sat opposite, placing her own mug onto the glass table between them.

“So. How have you been?” She asked as if they were nothing more than old friends catching up.

“Well...the therapy has been helping. I don’t have many…episodes anymore.”

“That’s good.” She replied, fiddling with her hands and finding any excuse not to look at him.

“And you ma’am?”

“Honestly David?” She asked rhetorically, regarding him for a moment before breathing out. “Awful.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He whispered, letting his stoic expression drop for just a moment. “Why did you ask me here?” He questioned, instantly regretting his stupid choice of words.

“Really David? I think you and I both know why you’re here. I didn’t choose to have this happen. I didn’t choose to die. The first I knew of it I was waking up from surgery in a hospital room with the BBC reporting that I had fallen victim to a bomb.” She exploded then paused, thinking about her next move. “I know you’re angry David.” She spoke softly, finally meeting his piercing gaze. “But I want you to know that this hasn’t all been some fun holiday in a beautiful villa. It has been painful and long and tiring and, quite frankly, fucking lonely.”

“And how exactly do you think it has been for me?” He almost shouted, making Julia jump. “With all respect ma’am, I was the only person that fought for the truth, and I mean really fought, and yet you still keep me in the dark for nine months?” He stood up, walking around the coffee table and standing above her until she stood too, fury painting her face.

“For God’s sake, my name is Julia!” She screamed at him, tears brimming her eyes.

He didn’t reply, only looked at her with a concerned expression before dropping his gaze to her lips and crashing into them, a familiar desire coursing through his veins as she ran her fingers through the short hair at the top of his neck and he rested his palms comfortably on her waist. He parted from her, touching his forehead to hers. “I’ve missed you.” He whispered before she placed her head on his shoulder and began to sob. At that moment, it was just them. No baggage or anger, just them. He held onto her tightly, spilling continuous lines of I’ve got you into her hair.

[...]

Being in her bed again, feeling her skin warm against his, was a sensation like no other. Sex was different now. No longer hasty and desperate but tender and loving. The kind of pleasure that carried heavy emotions with it and commanded the honesty of each party involved.

The look she gave him afterwards told him all that he needed to know, a new confident vulnerability making a home within him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered, receiving a blush and a light peck in return.

“Not so bad yourself Mr.Budd.” She hummed, smiling for what felt like the first time in forever.

The morning would bring a new set of challenges but, for now, they were both content like this: lazily chatting about nothing and stealing kisses in the midnight moon.


End file.
